


Discovery & Recovery

by Icecat62



Series: The Business [3]
Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icecat62/pseuds/Icecat62
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser recovers from being shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery & Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "Unfinished Business" and "Tying Up Loose Ends".  
> Originally posted to RedSuitsYou@yahoogroups.com. - July 2001.

He stared at the ceiling watching a small cobweb wave back and forth as a breeze blew past it. Turning his head, he struggled to sit up so he could look out the window. It was cracked open and he could hear birds singing.

Pushing back, he gasped as a pain stabbed through his chest. As it faded, he curled a hand into a fist, trying not to scream. He was bored. He was sick of being in pain and he was tired of being tired. All it took was one gunshot wound and he was helpless. He could feel himself sinking into a deep depression.

"Ben?"

He turned his head slowly toward her. She was the only bright spot in his otherwise dreary life. Thatcher walked over to his bedside and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. Pushing the hair off his forehead, she smiled.

"You'll be out of here in two weeks."

Closing his eyes, he turned away from her, fighting back the tears.

"I want to go home now. I ha...I don't want to be here."

Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed, she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You know you're not ready. In two weeks you can leave here, but you can't go back to your apartment."

She saw him flinch. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He'd be going to the Vecchio's where he'd be swamped with attention. Every move he made, every breath he took would be watched by all the mother hens in that house.

"I've made arrangements. I'll be taking three weeks vacation so that you can stay at my apartment. I have internet access at home so I'll be able to continue working and still have constant contact with the consulate. After the three weeks are over, I'll  
return to my duties and you'll remain at my place until you're well enough to live on your own again."

She felt his body stiffen and when he looked at her, she saw a mixture of confusion, hope and a smidgen of joy in his eyes.

"I can't...I can't possibly impose on you."

She looked serious at first, then smirked at him when she finished talking.

"You didn't ask me, so it's not imposing. You need some place quiet to recover and I don't believe that the Vecchio home would be that place."

For the first time since she had come into the room, Fraser actually smiled. Maybe what she was doing was wrong. Maybe she should have let the Vecchio's care for him, but seeing him smile like this told her it was the right thing to do. 

**********

"Okay Benny, put your arm around me."

"Ray, I can walk. I don't need you..."

"Look, don't argue with me!"

"Ray, I can..."

"Gentlemen!"

Ray and Fraser stopped arguing and turned their attention to Thatcher.

"Ben, let Ray help you. The doctor said he didn't want you walking about unassisted for at least another week."

Fraser put his arm around Ray's shoulder. She tried her best to not smile as Fraser pouted. He'd deny that he was doing it, but that lower lip of his was definitely sticking out. The bad part about it was he looked absolutely adorable while doing it. She'd have to watch herself around him or she'd soon find herself wrapped around his little finger.

By the time they reached the door to her apartment, Ray felt Fraser leaning heavily against him. He was breathing in short pants, his pace pale and drawn, his legs shaking. Ray squeezed his hand gently around his shoulder.

"Just a few more feet, okay Benny?"

He knew Fraser was on the verge of collapse because all he got was a curt nod for a reply.

Thatcher cast a quick glance at Fraser as she opened the door to the apartment. She could see he was in pain. His face was ashen and he was trembling. Hopefully he wouldn't pass out in the hallway. Flinging the door open, she ushered the pair in,  
leading them down a short hall to a spare bedroom. What had once been a room full of boxes and junk had been transformed into a comfortable living space.

Thatcher had taken great care to decorate it in a rustic manner. She had even made a trip to Fraser's apartment and brought back some of his belongings to make him feel more at ease. His father's journals rested neatly in a small bookshelf by a full sized bed. On the night stand she had placed the few photographs that he had of his mother and father. Folded neatly at the end of the bed was his Hudson Bay blanket.

As Ray helped Fraser sit on the bed, she watched his eyes slowly scan the room. She was startled to see tears pooling in his eyes. Reaching a hand out, he picked up the small silver framed photo of his mother, clutching it tightly in his hands as he tucked his head down.

"You okay Benny?"

Fraser nodded his head yes, but kept his face hidden.

"I got to go...I'll be back later to see how you're doin'."

The words came out in a shaky mumble.

"Thank you for all of your help Ray." 

Ray smiled.

"Hey, that's what family's for. See you tonight."

As Thatcher moved to follow Ray, he stopped her.

"I can see myself out."

Grinning, he nodded in the direction of Fraser.

"You need to get him undressed and in bed."

Ray chuckled as Thatcher's cheeks colored, then he hurried out of the room before  
she could make a sharp tongued reply.

Hearing the door click shut, Thatcher turned her attention back to Fraser, feeling more nervous than she had thought she would be. It wasn't like she was going to undress him to have sex, she was only going to help him get settled in bed. The  
prospect of doing such a thing set her nerves on edge. She had always wanted to see him unclothed, but not in this setting. She had always envisioned it being heated and passionate, not her playing nurse.

Going to a dresser, she took out a pair of RCMP sweat pant. Placing them on the bed, she knelt down and began unlacing his sneakers. He quickly pulled his feet back.

"I can undo them."

Pursing her lips, Thatcher grabbed his foot and began unlacing the sneaker again. 

"No, you can't. Ray put them on for you, I'm taking them off. You're not supposed to be bending over, picking up, pulling or stretching. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

Pulling the sneaker off, she sighed.

"Ben...please don't call me sir."

Looking up at him, she frowned.

"We have to follow the doctors instructions to the letter. Do you want to tear something and have to go back to the hospital?"

He shook his head no, looking like a little boy who had been reprimanded by his mother. Unlacing the other sneaker, she pulled it off and tucked them far under the bed so she wouldn't have to worry about him trying to put them on when she wasn't around.

Standing, she reached forward and began unbuttoning his shirt. The photograph that Fraser had been holding dropped to the floor as he reached up and grabbed her wrists.

"I can do this myself."

She caught a small wince of pain as he had raised his hands to stop her. Taking his hands in hers, she held them briefly before slowly lowering them.

"No."

"But I don't want you to..."

She saw the nervousness in his eyes, mingled with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Ben, but I have to do this. You can't take your shirt off."

"Please Meg...don't..."

Ignoring him, she reached up and began to unbutton the shirt. Pushing it back toward his shoulders, her hands stilled as her eyes settled on the large amount of gauze taped to his chest. This would be a part of her helping him as well. She was the one who would change the gauze and clean the wound. She had all the instructions on what to do. She was certified in first aid, but it made her feel uneasy knowing that it was Fraser who was the injured party. Looking into his face, she saw his shame. He wouldn't admit it, but she knew he felt like he was a weak person for letting a gunshot wound leave him so helpless.

After reading through a few of his father's journals, she had begun to understand why he felt the way he did. Why he did some of the things that drove her crazy. Why he was so silent and withdrawn. When she had found Fraser's own personal  
journals, she had clutched them tightly to her chest, not wanting to intrude on his personal feelings and thoughts, but yearning to know more about him.

He hardly ever talked about himself or how he felt. He hid behind Inuit legends and criminal cases. As long as she had known him, she never heard him discuss anything in the terms of me or I. It was always them, they or he. The time that Fraser would be spending with her recovering would hopefully be a time of discovery.

She wanted to learn about him. She wanted to know who the man really was behind the uniform. There was more to Fraser than just his red serge, stetson and handsome face. She was sure that behind his image of Fraser the Mountie, there was hidden Ben the man. Hopefully she would be able to find him before he left her care. 

Ignoring the uneasiness that surrounded them, Thatcher slowly removed Fraser's shirt. Folding it neatly, she set it down and reached for the button of his jeans. She hesitated, licked her lower lip and pulled her hands back.

"Um...maybe you could do this."

She helped him stand, watching his nervous shaking fingers as they undid the top of his jeans. His chest and face flushed a light pink as he unzipped them. He avoided looking at her.

"Could you possibly turn around? I can take them off myself."

Her throat closed and she had to clear her throat to speak.

"No...you aren't permitted to bend down. I'll...assist you."

Feeling ridiculous as hell, Thatcher could tell that she was blushing just as badly as Fraser was. Moving forward, she slowly tugged at the waistband of the jeans and began pulling them down. Fraser's hands quickly grasped the waistband of the boxers to prevent them from being pulled down as well.

She had to kneel to pull the jeans off and found her face staring straight at his crotch. Her face flamed a deep red as she jerked her head down to stare at his feet. She had been able to see more than was necessary through the thin white material of the boxers.

"Um...could you...Fraser...step out of them."

As he lifted each foot, she pulled the jeans off. Scrambling to her feet, she folded them and grabbed the sweat pants. Taking a deep breath, she knelt back down and the moment he stepped into them, she pulled them up, snapping the elastic waistband in place. Standing again, she backed away and motioned at the door.

"I'll go and get your things."

Practically running from the room, she stopped in the living room and held onto the back of a chair while taking deep gulping breaths.

Feelings of intense embarrassment and shame warred for domination. She was supposed to be caring for him, not looking him over like he was a side of beef! Where had all her self control gone? It seemed to have disappeared...what was left of it...when she had gone to his apartment to get some of his personal belonging. Once she had seen and read some of the things about him, any last bit of ice around her heart concerning him had melted away.

Closing her eyes, she placed a hand on her forehead feeling the beginning of a pounding headache. She realized that all of Fraser's things were already in his room. Taking a few calming breaths, she walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of iced tea and grabbed a few sugar cookies. Placing them on a tray, she went back to the room.

Stepping into the bedroom, she smiled wistfully. Fraser was stretched out on the bed asleep. Setting the tray down, she moved silently across the room to pull the curtains shut. Taking a light blanket out of the closet, she covered him. She hesitated briefly before cautiously running a hand lightly over his brow. He was cool to the touch which meant there was no fever. He was just exhausted by the trip home from the hospital.

She stood by the bed looking down at Fraser as he slept. He looked peaceful and relaxed, not guarded and wary like he always appeared when he was awake in her presence. She had watched his tense posture every day, his sadness. He was very  
good at hiding his feelings from everyone, but after working with him everyday, she had begun to see behind the mask. He was afraid to reach out in fear of being pushed away.

She had felt guilty when she had looked through his personal journals, but she knew. He had been pushed away so often that he had begun to give up. And having been one of those who had done the pushing, it made her more sad than she thought she could have ever felt.

She stood beside the bed watching him for over fifteen minutes before taking the cookies and tea back to the kitchen. Moving quietly about the apartment, she began to prepare dinner. While the chicken cooked in the oven, she gathered the medical supplies to clean his healing wound. Q-tips, peroxide, gauze, special antiseptic ointment and tape. She added the bottles of medication to the tray. Looking at the clock on the wall, she figured she'd have enough time to clean him up, help him put on a shirt and then she could finish dinner. 

Picking the tray up, Thatcher walked back to the bedroom. She felt bad for having to wake Fraser, but he'd have plenty of time to sleep in the next few weeks of his recovery. Setting the tray down on a small side table, she placed a hand on his  
shoulder, noticing for the first time a rather strange looking scar on his collarbone. Tracing it with a finger, she could only guess at how he acquired it.

Looking at his face, she gently pushed him. His eyes opened slowly and he blinked once or twice before giving her a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry...I must have fallen asleep."

Smiling back at him, she pointed at the tray.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I thought we could get this over and done with before then."

He looked at the tray and frowned slightly, unconsciously bringing a hand up to rest against his chest.

"I could take care of it myself. I'm certain..."

"I can too. You need to relax Ben. I'll be taking care of things while you're here. At least until the doctor says you're able to do it yourself."

Reaching a hand out, she moved his arm away from his chest and took a hold of an end of the tape holding the gauze in place.

"This will hurt a bit I'm sure."

Taking the end, she quickly ripped the tape away. To his credit, Fraser only flinched slightly. Pulling the other side of the tape off, taking the gauze with it, Thatcher finally got a clear look at where he had been shot.

His surgery had left a long incision down the center of his chest that looked as if someone had placed a red zipper in his skin. It looked painful and red compared to the smooth pale skin surrounding it. Keeping her eyes on the healing wound, she carefully cleaned it, reapplied the ointment, then applied a fresh piece of gauze. When she looked at his face again, she could see small beads of sweat on his forehead.

"I'll be back in a minute."

She cleaned everything up and took the tray back to the kitchen to dispose of everything. Cleaning the tray, she then poured a large glass of water and took it back to Fraser. She could feel his eyes tracking her movements as she  
took out his medications. Handing them to him, she was surprised that he didn't argue about taking them. The pain must have been worse than she had originally thought.

"Are you up to eating at the table or would you prefer that I bring your meal in here?"

He struggled to sit up and she quickly moved forward and helped him, feeling him tense up at her touch.

"I'd like to eat at the table please. I'm tired of laying in bed all the time. Eating in a regular chair would be nice."

She gave him a small smile.

"Good."

Actually she was hoping he'd eat with her at the table. She missed having company at meals.

As he went to stand, she eased an arm around his waist and helped him slide from the bed. He didn't tense as much this time. Releasing him, she picked out a blue flannel shirt from the dresser and helped him put it on. She let him button one or two of the lower buttons, seeing a look of satisfaction on his face as he pushed each button through. The look changed to irritation when she moved his hands away and finished doing the higher ones.

"No stretching Ben. Doctor's orders, remember?"

Giving Thatcher a small frown, Fraser looked down at his feet and then around the room.

"You won't need your sneakers. Socks will be sufficient."

As she walked out of the bedroom, she listened to the light tread of his feet as he followed her to the kitchen. It was nice having someone around. Usually she'd be home by herself, eating a makeshift meal or something ordered. Having Fraser with her every day would be a pleasant change. It would also be a test to see if she and Fraser could tolerate living with one another. Living with someone was definitely different than working with them. 

Thatcher moved about the small kitchen, taking out the plates and silverware. Fraser stood at the entrance watching her.

"May I help?"

Looking at the plates, she smiled. It wouldn't hurt to let Fraser set the small table while she got the chicken ready.

"Yes, you can set the table."

As she cut the chicken up, she watched every move that he made, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he reached for the platter of chicken, she motioned him away.

"You can sit down, I'll bring out the food."

"But I was only..."

"Fraser, please sit down."

There it was again. That pout of his. Just the slightest protrusion of his lower lip, the stiffened posture. It was so hard to resist the urge to reach out and hug him. How a man his age managed to look so adorable was beyond her. Turning away from him,  
she hid a smile.

Picking up the platter of chicken, she set it on the table. In a few more trips, salad, rolls and string beans joined the chicken. They ate in a companionable silence. Thatcher smiled as she watched Fraser eat. He was practically wolfing down the portion of chicken on his plate. Looking up, he caught her eye. He paused the fork at his lips, blushing in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eat so quickly. The hospital food...it left much to be desired."

"I know what you're talking about. I think hospital food is almost as bad as the stuff they tried to feed us at the academy."

Fraser nodded his head in agreement and gave her a curious look.

"What Ben?"

He looked down at his plate.

"Oh...nothing." 

Placing her fork down on the table, Thatcher raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, you just looked at me in a rather strange way. Tell me what you're thinking."

She saw the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked back up at her.

"When you were at the academy did you ever...did you ever get into any mischief?"

She gave him a small smile in return. 

"Well, there was this one time..."

Her voice trailed off as she realized just who she was about to tell one of her innermost secrets. She shifted gears, backpedaling like she always did when she talked with Fraser at the consulate.

"No...I didn't really do anything all that bad."

The look of anticipation that Fraser wore faded, causing Thatcher to feel guilty.  
This was a trial period. A chance to really get to know one another. She fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. She had to open up to him if they ever stood a chance of being together.

"Well...there was this one incident...it got me into quite a mess I'm afraid."

As she launched into a detailed lengthy narrative, she was glad she had decided to tell Fraser the story after all. Seeing his smile, hearing him laugh...it was well worth any feelings of worry or humiliation. Those feelings were replaced by a warm glow of happiness. 

They traded small stories of their days at the academy over doing the dishes and straightening up the kitchen. She hadn't noticed how much she had let Fraser do until she saw him flinch as he reached up to put the platter away.

"Okay Ben, it's time to sit."

"Meg, I'm..."

He stopped speaking and gave her a tired smile as he caught her frown.

"I'll be on the sofa."

Smiling again, she watched him walk slowly to the living room and gingerly lower himself, holding his arm across his chest. Another stab of guilt hit her.

*I knew I wouldn't be very good at this. I should have let the Vecchio's care for him.*

Thatcher immediately chided herself for thinking those thoughts. If the Vecchio's had Fraser in their home, Ray's sister would have been all over him.

*I did the right thing!*

Pulling the freezer door open a bit too hard, it slammed back against the wall. Fraser's voice called out to her.

"Is everything all right Meg?"

"Yes. Yes it is. I pulled the door open too hard, that's all."

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. The idea of Francesca touching Fraser angered her. Well, Fraser wasn't exactly hers, he was...actually he was in a way. He wanted to be with her and that's what mattered the most.

Taking a container of ice cream out, she scooped out two bowls worth. After putting everything away, she walked out and handed one of the bowels to Fraser. His face lit up in a bright smile.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I thought a small desert would be nice. A kind of celebration for you coming home...er, here. I mean for you getting out of the hospital."

Turning the evening news on she began talking to him, trying to will the butterflies in her stomach to calm down their insistent flutter. They chatted about the different news stories that flashed across the screen. Seeing that Fraser was finished with his ice cream, she took their bowls back to the kitchen.

Coming back, she settled in the chair next to the sofa.

"You should lay down for a bit."

"I'd rather sit. I've been laying around a bit too much as it is."

She smiled.

"Are we going to have to discuss every single thing that's good for you?"

He frowned at her and swung his legs up on the sofa, stretching his lean form out.

Picking the remote up, Thatcher gave Fraser a questioning look.

"What would you care to watch?"

"Whatever you normally watch will be fine."

"Ben, what do 'you' like?"

"I...uh...I don't watch much television."

"There has to be something that you watch some nights." He blurted out his response.

"I don't have a television set. The only time I watch any programs are when I'm at  
Ray's home."

She felt uncomfortable again. She had assumed that Fraser's life was more like hers, when she knew that it was far from being anywhere near the type of life she was use to living.

"Oh...I didn't know."

She clicked slowly from station to station, stopping when she saw the game show, Jeopardy. It wasn't a dumb program and the fact that it's host was Canadian didn't hurt.

Setting the remote down, she leaned back in the chair, feeling herself relax. Without thinking, she blurted out the first answer that the contestant was having trouble with. Fraser smiled over at her.

"That's correct."

Then the box on the screen lit up, giving the same answer that she had given. Turning to him, she grinned.

"Let's play along. You answer one question, I'll answer the next one."

He smiled back at her and nodded yes.

They spent the remainder of the show answering all the questions with Thatcher growing frustrated by the contestants giving the wrong answers.

"How could he miss that one? It was too easy."

Fraser tugged at an earlobe. How could he say to her that not everyone was as smart as she was without sounding like he was being sarcastic? He settled on keeping his mouth shut. He was having fun with Thatcher and he didn't want to chance ruining it.

After the program was over, Thatcher excused herself. Going into her bedroom, she picked up her briefcase and dug out a large folder stuffed with papers. Looking at them, she frowned. Doing any type of work right now didn't exactly appeal to her.  
She was enjoying her time with Fraser.

With a defeated sigh, she grabbed a pen and headed back to the living room. As much as she wanted to waste the evening away, her duties came first. As she walked into the room, she smiled at the sight of Fraser stretched out on the sofa fast asleep. With his arms tucked around his chest, he had curled on his side facing the television. Quietly settling back in her chair, Thatcher set about doing the paper work that she had brought home, occasionally stopping just to look at Fraser's slumbering form. 

Yawning, Thatcher stretched and rubbed at her tired eyes. It was almost ten thirty and thankfully she was finally done with the stack of paper work that she had brought home. Tapping them softly in order, she slipped them back in their folder and set it down on the coffee table.

Standing, she stared down at Fraser who was now laying on his back, his arms draped casually over his chest. It was time to change the bandage and give him his medication, but she was loathe to do it. He looked so peaceful and content.

With a resigned sigh, she knelt down next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. He moved slightly at her touch. Trailing a hand along his cheek, she touched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ben...Ben..."

Fraser's eyes slowly opened and he gave her a sleepy look. He blinked once or twice, looking as if he were lost.

Stifling a yawn, he slowly sat up, holding his arm to his chest. Standing, he gave her a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"That's all right. You're supposed to be resting. You'll heal faster that way."

She could tell by the pinched look on his face that he was in pain again. She had better give him his medication before changing the gauze.

He gave her a curious look. "Did Ray stop by?"

"Yes, he came by earlier and when he saw that you were asleep he said he'd  
come by some time tomorrow."

"Oh."

She could tell that he was disappointed that he didn't get to see Ray, but neither she nor Vecchio felt it was necessary to wake Fraser. It wasn't like Ray couldn't come over any time he wanted to check on Fraser.

They spent the next half hour with Thatcher cleaning Fraser's healing incision and preparing him for bed. She felt rather motherly as she helped him get settled. She couldn't resist doing it. Pulling the covers up, she tucked him in, giving him a light  
kiss on the forehead. The shy smile she received from Fraser made her feel warm and loved.

Saying good night, she padded her way down the hall to her bedroom. Day one was over and she decided that having Fraser under her care was the best decision that she had made in quite some time. As she undressed and settled herself into bed, she smiled as she closed her eyes. Yes, things were going just fine. 

**********

The days passed by quickly. Too fast as far as Thatcher was concerned. Each day was spent in pleasant companionship. The better Fraser became, the more time they spent interacting together. She felt a stab of loneliness twist in her chest as she looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall. Tonight would be their last evening meal shared together. Fraser's doctor had cleared him and tomorrow he would be going back to his apartment.

Dropping her eyes to the stalk of celery in her hand, she mindlessly chopped it into small pieces. Her throat began to close up as she thought of how lonely it would be without him. The idea of him leaving left her feeling empty...hollow. Bringing the back of her hand up, she wiped an errant tear from her cheek. Sniffling, she quickly tried to hide her feelings as Fraser walked into the kitchen.

"Meg, do you want milk, tea or pop?"

"Ummm...pop please."

She listened to him opening the refrigerator, taking out two bottles of pop. She had gotten him hooked on drinking grape pop when they had hamburgers for dinner. They made 'burger night' a weekly ritual, turning a normally boring meal into an indoor picnic.

Standing behind Thatcher, Fraser leaned against her back, wrapping his arms casually around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Would you prefer chips or would you like me to make french fries?"

Dropping the knife in her hand, she tucked her head down, trying to hide the tears that began rolling down her cheeks.

"Meg?"

Turning around, she hugged him tightly, feeling stupid, ridiculous and sad all at the same time.

"Meg, what's wrong?"

Her voice was muffled against his chest.

"I don't want to eat alone."

Wrapping his arms around her, Fraser chuckled.

"You're not going to, I won't be leaving until tomorrow afternoon."

She pulled back slightly, looking at his face seeing the twinkle in his eyes that she loved so much. In the time that they had spent together she had learned so much about him that she felt connected to him. It was a feeling that she didn't want to lose. She blurted out her next words.

"I don't want you to go!"

There. She finally said it. She had finally admitted to him and to herself that she wanted more than to see him on casual dates and at work. She wanted their life to continue the way that it had been for the past month. She wanted to spend each morning with him eating cereal and muffins. She wanted to cook dinners and watch Jeopardy with him every evening.

It had surprised her to find that everyday life with Fraser had turned out to be so wonderful. There were small things about him that made her love him more each day. The way his fingers curled when he slept. His sense of humor that he had hidden from her for so long. The past few nights spent cuddled up with him on the sofa, feeling his body tucked against hers. It had happened only three nights ago and she wanted to have that feeling of comfort with her for the rest of her life.

He looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist. The mischievous look that he wore was replaced by one of understanding. He bent his head toward hers and just before his lips pressed against hers, he whispered, "I don't want to go  
either."

She felt light headed and a bit giddy as they kissed. As his hold tightened, she knew Fraser wouldn't be leaving. The kiss was only the beginning of their new life together. A life that wouldn't be an easy one, but it was better than the boring lives that they had spent living apart. They would face the world together from now on and that suited Thatcher just fine. 

END


End file.
